Unsure
by petrelli heiress
Summary: Collection of drabbles. Claire was unsure of what she'd seen. Slightly Claire-centric, numerous het and slash pairings.
1. Unsure

**Unsure**

**Characters/Pairings: Claire, Peter/Sylar**

**Author's Note: I believe I promised I would be nice to Claire in my next fic? Well, here it is. Short, but here it is. **

**Disclaimer: In no way do I own that show known as **_**Heroes. **_

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Claire was unsure of what exactly she'd seen.

If asked, she would admit to having seen nothing at all. After all they had asked that she tell no one; she wasn't a snitch.

If pressed further, she might say she'd seen a sight so horrifying that she couldn't even begin to put it into semi-coherent words. This was of course untrue but it did do the trick.

No one demanded she tell them what she saw. She was very grateful for this. They didn't usually give up this easily.

She noticed it after that though. The way Peter was always smiling. Seriously, even the inanimate objects were getting some love from that smile. The toaster had almost looked _frightened _when Peter had looked at it just that morning. The way he tried to sniff any clothes Sylar might have left behind had definitely given the game away; she was surprised no one else had noticed.

Peter's new habit of scaring the furniture wasn't the only symptom she noticed. Sylar continued to growl at anyone who tried to approach him, like some sort of half demented, half adorable grizzly bear. _That _would never change. Somehow though he seemed happier. This, she thought, wasn't entirely strange since if she'd been a guy and had Peter doing to her what he'd been doing to Sylar she would be very happy too. Not that she'd thought about that in great detail. She preferred to keep things in the 'unsure' stage.

She wondered what Angela would think about all this.

After much consideration, which included a pro/con list and some definite stretches of the imagination, Claire concluded that 'unsure' was the way to go.

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**See? I was nice to her. Woo.**

**Review please. **


	2. Still Unsure

**Still Unsure**

**Characters/Pairings: Claire, Noah/Claude**

**Author's Note: Okay, I couldn't get the idea of Claire seeing something for certain pairings and being "unsure" about it so...here's the second chapter *sigh***

**Disclaimer: If you're looking for the owner of Heroes, you're in the wrong place.**

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Claire was unsure of what she'd seen.

It couldn't have been...could it?

She thought about it for a moment. Well, he was single now. He no longer had to worry about her mother walking in. Or Mr. Muggles. Lyle was completely out of the picture because he never noticed anything.

But, well...the guy had looked homeless!

She backtracked. Not that she'd seen anything. Or at least nothing she was sure about. Her Dad and the homeless man could have been doing anything. Yeah. Playing doctor, even. Yeah.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to make herself believe she was still unsure of what she'd seen.

It made sense, she guessed. The man, despite looking as though the only clothes he owned were the ones lying on the floor, had seemed familiar. Possibly he had worked with Dad years ago? As his partner, with Primatech, most likely. Or as his "colleague," as he would have been known back when she'd believed her Dad, her hero, was merely a pencil pusher.

She supposed it was likely he might need...something.

She was just still unsure about what she'd seen.

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**I know, short. There might be a third chapter. Maybe. Any suggestions?**

**Review please. **


	3. Definitely Unsure

**Definitely Unsure**

**Characters/Pairings: Claire, Lyle/Luke**

**Disclaimer: Me, the owner of Heroes? *laughs ass off* Really, you're in the wrong place, buddy. **

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Claire was _definitely _unsure of what she'd seen.

Seriously, what was with this anyway? How was it that she kept walking in on...certain scenes between...certain people? Had she done something to piss off some all-powerful deity and now he/she/it was taking its misplaced rage out on her? What had she done to deserve this?

Obviously something _very _bad. Like...oh. Her brow furrowed. Well, she'd known losing her temper like that would have consequences (it wasn't as though he hadn't deserved what she'd done to him); she just hadn't expected...this.

She blinked. Oh, that was a bad idea. The image flashed across her mind's eye and stayed there. Her brother, for god's sake! You weren't supposed to see your brother like that. All naked and sweaty and, well...you get the idea.

And with him! With – what was it Hiro called him? Oh, that's right – Microwave Boy. How could he? The kid was psycho! Well, she conceded, he hung around Sylar. It was to be expected.

But still. She'd thought he had better taste. Well, okay, not really. After that sleazy bartender who'd come on to him a few months ago, she'd lost all hope of Lyle ever getting a proper boy/girlfriend.

She guessed Microwave Boy was better than Sleazy Bartender. Just, well...

If there ever happened to be a quiz which asked whether she'd seen anything or not, she would definitely have to put done 'unsure.'

Definitely.

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**Yup. Okay, I'm floundering with the het ships. Any suggestions?**

**Review please. **


	4. A Bit Unsure

**Chapter: A Bit Unsure**

**Characters/Pairings: Claire, Alex/Monica, Matt**

**Author's Note: Thanks to Boisterous Hal for the pairing idea. **

**Warning: Uh, spoilers for volume 4, I guess. You'd have to have watched it to know who Alex _is_****, for one thing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. I'm serious. **_**Deadly **_**serious. **

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Claire was a bit unsure of what she'd seen.

It had merely been a gesture of comfort, a friendly squeeze of the shoulder at the announcement of a death in the family. Surely that was all it had been.

And yet. She couldn't be totally sure. There had been something in his eyes when he'd looked at Monica. The way his hand had lingered on her shoulder must have meant something more than friendship. Admittedly she didn't have the best of experiences when it came to what constituted romantic touching, and what was merely platonic, but that look had been more than just sympathetic. It had been...well. She didn't really know.

The thing was...the thing _was_...Alex was hers. She'd kissed him first, surrounded on all sides by danger, water and the fucked up piece of crap that was her life a few years ago. She'd thought there'd definitely been something between them.

But no, apparently not. She knew she was being petty, selfish even. After all, in the grand scheme of things, Monica needed him more than she did. If she was honest with herself, Monica _wanted _him more than she did. And if she just cut the crap for one minute, she knew he wasn't the one for her. She was just jealous, a petty jealous born from the knowledge of so many missed opportunities.

She wondered if anyone else had noticed. Matt kept giving her sympathetic looks (nice, but not necessary) so she supposed that meant he knew. But what did he know exactly?

Just a friendly gesture. The exchange of a glance, a soft smile. It could have meant anything.

Claire was just a bit unsure _what. _

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**Review please. **


	5. Not Exactly Sure

**Chapter: Not Exactly Sure**

**Characters/Pairings: Claire, Sandra/Janice, Matt Jr., Lyle**

**Author's Note: Thanks to KaidaX for the pairing idea in this. It intrigued me. **

**Warning: Volume 4 spoilers, pertaining to Noah and Sandra's marriage. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. Maybe when I'm a crazy old cat lady (my life's goal) but not now, I'm afraid.**

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Claire wasn't exactly sure what she'd seen.

She knew her mom had friends; she'd even met a few. They were nice, in their own way. Many of them were as obsessed with dogs as she was. Some were parents at Lyle's school. And she knew her mom had been a bit lonely, for all these friends. Not that she'd admit it, of course. She put on a brave face for her kids, and what a brave face it was. Barely a crack.

She also knew that after the (second) divorce, Matt's wife, Janice, would definitely need a friend. So it wasn't entirely unthinkable that Mom and Janice would hit it off. Their (ex-)husbands kept secrets, they had kids, they were obviously both working mothers, both thought baby Matt the most adorable baby on the planet (although Mom said Lyle came close – Claire was very offended, she didn't speak to her mom for an entire two hours)...

It was just that when she'd walked into the kitchen that morning she had definitely not expected to see Mom with an arm around Janice as they made what smelled, after much deliberation, like waffles. And then there was the giggling (like teenagers!) and the smelling of each other's hair (maybe they'd just had showers? Oh god, don't go down that road, Claire).

Claire did not think of either of her parents as sexual beings (although both appeared to be trying to break her of that common misconception). It did not do well to dwell on stuff like that. Headaches ensued. She groaned and pressed her forehead to the cool bathroom tiled wall. She could feel one coming on now.

Maybe they were just really friendly. Maybe that was how Mom acted around her friends, and Claire just hadn't noticed. Maybe...

Someone knocked at the door. Lyle. She opened the door and dragged him in. She bombarded him with questions, mostly to do with whether anything was going on between Mom and Janice. If Lyle, who was possibly the most oblivious person on the planet, knew something was going on, then something must be.

All he did was laugh. And laugh. And laugh some more. Then he _really _needed to use the bathroom, if you know what I mean. So he pushed her out but not before muttering, in no way caring whether she heard or not, "And they think _I'm _oblivious! HA!"

She stared at the bathroom door. This was totally not cool. Well, okay, it was a little cool. After all, baby Matt _was _adorable, and if Janice was going to be spending more time here, then she'd get to see him more. And Janice wasn't so bad. She had good taste in clothes.

It was just...well...she couldn't exactly be sure of what she'd seen. What if she (and Lyle, and possibly everyone else) was wrong? What if it really was just friendship?

She decided to label this "not exactly sure" for now. Until further notice.

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**Review please. **


	6. Uncertain

**Uncertain**

**Characters/Pairings: Claire, Tracy/Heidi, Simon, Monty**

**Author's Note: I do not know where this pairing came from. Seriously.**

**Disclaimer: Heroes, I own not.**

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Claire was uncertain of what she'd seen.

She consulted with Simon. He was as well. Monty's eyes remained wide and blank for about a week after the Incident as they called it, so she was unsure whether he'd seen anything at all. And, if he had, he was probably trying very hard to forget it, in order to escape the possible trauma.

Heidi had obviously believed they were alone, that her sons had taken Claire down to the swimming pool. Of course she was entirely incorrect and would probably double and triple check next time (if indeed there would be a next time).

Claire knew she shouldn't have come, but she had wanted to get to know the boys who were basically her half brothers – really her only connection to Nathan, besides Peter (who was too wrapped up in a certain someone to pay attention to her) and Angela (who was not very forthcoming at all). Well, she'd also thought that maybe a change of scenery would mean a cessation of walking into certain ambiguous situations.

What she knew, without a doubt, she shouldn't have done was bring Tracy Strauss along. But the woman had been stressed. Yes, she was helping people, but constantly martyring yourself to a cause for which there was rarely a reward could bring on a whole heap of emotional angst and psychological problems (or so Dad said). Thus she needed a chance to relax, maybe take in some sun, do a little retail therapy. And what better place to do that than the south of France? And wouldn't it be practical – not to mention, safer – if she and Claire went together?

It had certainly seemed like it at the time. But then Dad could be very persuasive when he wanted to be.

Of course both Heidi and Tracy had been with Nathan at one point or another, so there was some giggling and the remarkably swift swapping of sex stories (Claire chose to ignore this). That was understandable.

What _wasn't _understandable was how they'd gone from being acquaintances and maybe friends to...well, what they'd been doing, the details of which were...unclear.

With an almost catatonic Monty on their hands, Claire and Simon speculated amongst themselves as to the possible theories behind what they had witnessed. They fell silent whenever Monty appeared, not wanting to traumatise him further. They eventually decided that it was none of their business.

Of course then they walked in on Tracy sitting in Heidi's lap, tongues down each other's throats. Both agreed that they would never mention this to Monty. Heidi eventually had a sit down with both her sons to explain the facts of life, far too early in her opinion but what could you do?

Sometimes ignorance really was bliss.

No one sat Claire down to explain the facts of life to her, not that she necessarily needed it. Tracy tried to come up with some excuse for the compromising situation Claire had found her in, but ultimately failed – she had been out of the political scene for far too long. She found to her utter dismay that her powers of fabricating lies had all but vanished.

Claire had to be content with merely labelling the entire Incident 'uncertain.' She wondered exactly when the Powers That Be would stop doing this to her, concluding with a sigh that they would probably never stop.

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**Review please. **


	7. Desperately Seeking Uncertainty

**Desperately Seeking Uncertainty**

**Characters/Pairings: Claire, Molly/Micah**

**Author's Note: It was getting a bit sweet and innocent, and really why would Claire label that under unsure? So...this happened. Excuses, excuses. And I guess I have many of you to thank for this pairing suggestion. You know who you are.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. But I do own the peanut brownies I'm eating right now, so it's all good.**

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Claire really shouldn't have come. Why she'd thought going to Matt's place would have helped, she really couldn't say (in fact, a better idea would probably have been to go to the Haitian and have him erase the "unsure" memories from her poor brain, but he'd be too hard to find and she needed a solution _now_). In fact, if pressed, she'd probably respond with a "..." and then make it very clear she was ignoring you.

She'd taken the stairs two at a time, since the lift was broken. She'd been in a hurry to simply arrive and spill the beans, as they say. She had seen far too much for it to be merely a coincidence. And it had happened six fucking times. It was getting out of hand.

In retrospect, Claire supposed she could have waited until morning but after getting through customs and struggling to find at least one taxi, she'd been pissed to the point of blind rage. She winced as she remembered what she'd said to the poor taxi driver. One day she'd make it up to him. If she ever saw him again, that is (she hoped she wouldn't though). If she'd waited until morning she wouldn't have stumbled through the door and out into the hallway, rounding the corner at a run before stopping short at the sight before her.

Claire gaped in astonishment and then backtracked before they could see her. She rounded the corner and then stopped, to rest her hot forehead on cool wallpaper. She felt guilty somehow, as though she shouldn't have witnessed it.

They must have been coming home from a date. It was sort of sweet, really, especially the way Micah had seemed so gentle. He'd kissed her as though she was the only girl he'd ever want to kiss. Claire remembered wondering years ago whether she'd ever find someone who'd kiss her like that.

Molly had looked so pretty, a huge grin plastered across her features, a blush colouring her cheeks. It had definitely been a magical moment for them. Claire thought she had a reason for feeling so guilty – she'd almost interrupted it. They deserved happiness after all this time. One had lost her family, and had almost certainly been heading towards mental illness with the baggage she carried around; the other had also lost his family, both parents dying as heroes, leaving him with such a terrible weight on his shoulders.

Claire peeked around the corner, thinking that she could possibly have been a voyeur in another life (or she was just nosy). Her eyebrows rose as high as they could possibly go. They were still at it! This was impossible! It had been such a sweet, innocent kiss; she'd thought it was their first time.

Obviously not, because Molly now had Micah backed up against the door and looked to be trying to tear off his shirt with her teeth. Claire wondered, with a sort of horrified fascination, whether Matt and Mohinder knew what their adopted daughter was getting up to. Hopefully not, she had the thought that neither man would take kindly to some guy doing certain things to their daughter. Although, to be perfectly honest, Micah wasn't actually doing all that much.

Claire closed her eyes briefly and then rushed off, possibly to finally go home and bleach her brain. Why did this keep happening to her? It just wasn't fair.

She would label this under "unsure" and never think of it again because to think of it would mean a reapplication of the brain bleach, and that was never pretty.

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**Brain bleach. It really isn't pretty.**

**Review please. **


	8. WTF

**WTF**

**Characters/Pairings: Claire, Elle/Isaac, Peter, Sylar**

**Author's Note: thanks to Lara-Van, who is a GENIUS for coming up with a way to bring Elle into this. Lol, I would never have thought of it.**

**Warning: Language. Of the possibly offensive variety. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. **

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What. The. Fuck.

Seriously, she'd just walked into the room. It was a normal, ordinary living room. There was a coffee table, a TV, even a sofa. Of course the latter was the problem, really. Or, to be more precise, who was on the sofa at the moment she'd walked in.

It had taken her awhile to realise that two people were actually having sex. She'd stood there, blinking, because seriously what the fuck? Where had they come from? This was Peter's apartment! And the only people who dared have sex there were Sylar and, well, Peter himself (not that she knew anything about their sexual exploits, she was only hazarding a guess).

Then it had hit her. She recognised the woman. But...hang on a minute, she'd seen the list of Sylar's victims her Dad had forced him to write out, metaphorically bending him over backwards and acting totally anal and pedantic about being _absolutely _correct. She definitely remembered seeing the name of Elle Bishop on that list, and no one survived Sylar unless they had a definite advantage, like the ability not to die.

That was when she recognised the man. Dad had insisted Sylar have pictures to go with the list, because he was a sadistic bastard or something. One of the pictures had been of that heroin addict future painter person. What was his name? Isaac Mendez, that was it.

So, what was this exactly? Were they alive? Or were they, what, ghosts? This did not make sense. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images of Elle and Isaac going at it quite enthusiastically assaulted her, and anyway closing her eyes couldn't possibly block out the sounds. And what sounds. She shuddered and backed out swiftly, succeeding in arriving in the kitchen, eyes still closed and uninjured.

This. Was. Not. Happening.

Two people, who should by rights be dead, shouldn't be having sex in the living room. It wasn't possible.

Sylar chose that moment to grace her with his presence. "Sup," he said, sitting down across from her. Claire gazed at him, wide eyed. Seriously, this day _could not _get any weirder. First, she'd seen...what she'd seen in the living room. And now Sylar had obviously been possessed by some teenage gangsta or something because Sylar just _did not _say "Sup" like that.

"What is going on?" she asked, hoping he'd give her some sort of answer. Although she wouldn't put it past him to let her stew until she finally had to resort to a brain bleach. "Why are Elle and that painter guy, who should be dead, having sex in the living room?"

She heard someone snigger, someone who was obviously not Sylar, who was just staring at her, one eyebrow raised ever so elegantly. She turned towards the doorway to find Peter there, looking like he'd been let in on the joke of the century. In short, total and complete mental breakdown, he was now laughing so hard.

Obviously he was not going to be much help. She turned back to Sylar. "Well?" she prompted, in a tone that said he better tell her straight off or she'd tell everyone about his undying love for all things Disney (not an image a badass dude like him wanted to cultivate, apparently).

Sylar glared at her for a moment before succumbing to the inevitable. He told her, as Peter looked far too amused for his own good, that Elle and Isaac had been summoned by some friend of Dad's and then forced to haunt the man who had murdered them, much to said murderer's disgust.

Apparently Elle and Isaac had got on like a house on fire. Which, you know, more than obvious.

When Elle entered the kitchen, looking ethereal (to be expected) and far too satisfied with herself, calling her Pom Pom just like she used to, Claire just shook her head and left because sure as hell she wasn't going to stay another minute in an apartment populated by a couple of ghostly sex maniacs. God.

But seriously, what the fuck? She would so be having a Talk with Dad later, just you want and see.

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**Review please. **

**Lol, this is getting so weird. **


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